


Missed Opportunities

by ElliotEspionage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clumsy mage, Cute, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Smut, Social Anxiety, clumsy romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10491948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliotEspionage/pseuds/ElliotEspionage
Summary: What good is a Dalish First who can't control his magic? None whatsoever. Sent to the Conclave to spare his clan the disaster that followed him everywhere, Rimmi fumbled his way into leading an Inquisition, only to be swept off of his feet by a dashing Tevinter mage.Unfortunately, Dorian's attention is turned elsewhere.





	1. Sent On His Way

**Author's Note:**

> I've been kicking this idea around for awhile and figured I may as well get it started. I can't promise updates on a regular schedule but I will try my damnedest to have them out in a timely fashion. Also, leave me comments and tell me what you love and what you hate, please; I'm an aspiring author and any feed back is greatly appreciated!
> 
> Also, tags and title are subject to change because I am awful at both.
> 
> Wow, so it's almost been a year since I updated this; I can not express how sorry I am to everyone that was interested. A lot of medical things hit me all at once last year and this completely fell off my radar. I will try to start this up again soon, thank you for the kudos, guys! I'll start a regular update schedule for you by the end of this month, I promise!
> 
> Thank you, again!

The aravel was up in flames. The clan Lavellan was running and shouting, trying to bring water to squelch the inferno and getting as much away from it as they could salvage. The flames started reaching up toward the tree branches overhead and the buckets of water being thrown sizzled into steam in the cool night.

Rimmi yelled for someone to pass him a bucket but he was shoved aside with a harsh, “You've done enough!” It was their apothecary aravel, and under the shouts one could hear the glasses full of potions shattering as they overheated and the noxious fumes spewing forth with the smoke was sickening. The elders rounded up the children to a far part of the camp and the hunters continued to rain water from the pond down onto the structure. Rimmi tried calling forth an ice spell he’d seen the Keeper use but a firm hand grabbed his arm as he tried to raise it; his mother, Ferona, appeared next to him and she shook her head, predicting what he was trying to do.

Keeper Deshanna had a calming serenity next to Ferona as she raised a hand in the air and closed her fist, calling Winter’s Grasp down to put an end to the fire. It was over almost a as quickly as it began and Clan Lavellan breathed a collective sigh of relief that quickly turned to anger in the wake of realizing that their entire store of herbs and potions and poultices were now cinders under a block of ice before them. Halin the craft master called out first, inciting the crowd against their Keeper’s first.

“That boy is nothing but trouble!”

“Fen’harel take this clan, so long as he’s here!”

“Keeper, you must see the danger in keeping him with us!”

His mother’s nails dug into his arm where her knuckles were white at the words and she spun him around to drag him back toward their aravel, away from most of the domestic campers and hidden in a shroud of trees, strategically placed, of course. His mother hobbled along on a crutch, having lost her leg to a great bear many years ago. She insisted on being as independent as possible, though she accepted his hand to help her up the creaking steps. She shoved the door with her shoulder and made her way inside and Rimmi wrung his hands like a child. Or he tried to, but the shock of the poultice exploding in his hands and the subsequent fire that started numbed him to the sensation of the tiny shards of glass lodged into his fingers and palms.

He sat on a cushion near the door and tried picking the pieces out but ended up bloodying himself further. Ferona sat heavily at his side and took his hand and began nursing it with a cold rag and deft huntress fingers.

He felt like a small child again, having his mamae clean up a scrape while he cried about the pain, but this pain hurt worse. He was a complete failure at everything he did and his clan suffered for it. He was their Keeper's First, not because he was the most proficient with magic, quite the opposite, but because he was the only other mage in his clan. The rest of the clan prayed to their gods, any and all of them, for another mage child or for another clan to send them mages but the prayers seemingly went in answered.

Rimmi winced at a particularly hard yank of glass out of his palm but the pain was being replaced with a cold numbness. He'd probably shredded the nerves, he might not have use of his hands much longer. Fitting, for a family that made a habit of losing limbs. The silence rang heavily in his ears and he watched the shards of glass drop into the wooden bowl on the floor. Ferona’s expression was unreadable and it only set him on edge. He always knew what she was thinking because she was so sprightly and animated, but her face was pinched into a harsh and singular focus on his hands and her greying hair was disheveled from waking in a panic. He had her tanned dark skin and red hair but was told he looked more like his father. He wouldn't know. The same great bear that claimed his mother's leg, did so only after claiming his father's life. Ferona’s face had no Vallaslin in the spirit of the Dread Wolf whom she channelled when hunting. She always said it was because everything has a price to be paid when any action is taken for or against the world.

She placed his hands tenderly in his lap and shuffled into the back of the wagon again, leaning on the cabinets for support, and returned shortly with bandages and elfroot paste. The paste tingled as it was spread on the gashes in his skin and he twitched each time she moved to the next cut.

He couldn't handle the silence any longer. “Mamae, I- ah!” She’d squeezed his hand tightly to silence him.

“I know, da’len. I know.” She began wrapping the hand covered in sticky green glop and swiped at a tear in her eye with her shoulder before continuing, “The Keeper has a special project for you. The shemlen are gathering to talk of peace between their mages and templars and Keeper Deshanna would like you to attend.”

The words landed like a punch in his gut. “Why would we need to be involved in that? It doesn't affect us!” Ferona winced at the anger in his voice but, before she could answer, the aravel door shut again and their Keeper stood solemnly in the small entryway.

“Rimmi, it does affect us. The Dalish have mages that are not bound to the shemlen Chantry and that frightens a great many people; whatever is decided at this summit will affect all of Thedas, one way or the other.”  
The small woman leaned against the door frame, “What I need from you as my first is not your magic, but your mind. Your magic is disastrous here and I have to think of what’s best for the clan and right now, the best thing is to distance you from them.”

Rimmi tried to protest but Deshanna silenced him with a hand, “It will take a month to restore our herbs, and without the potions that were destroyed, we have little to trade with the shem village. I am not sending you off to fight, I simply need information on what is happening. Please do not think of this as punishment. It is an opportunity to find another path for you.”

Rimmi's hands shook under his mother's as he blinked away the tears threatening to show weakness and Ferona wiped away the single one that escaped down his cheek.

“When do I leave?” he choked out, unable to look up from the bowl filled with the shards of the mistake that would send him away from his home and his family, most likely forever. His mother hugged him close and ruffled his hair with her free hand, still cradling his injuries in the other.

Pursing her lips, Deshanna linked her hands behind her back and stood straight, “I will leave that decision to you, but it must be soon if you're to reach your destination in time. I've secured passage for you by ship that leaves in one week and then with a trading caravan through Ferelden. The trip to the dock will take about five days on foot.” The unfamiliar “matter of factness” in her tone left no room for argument, and Rimmi didn't really have one to be made. The Keeper ducked out the door as silently as she came in, leaving he and his mother alone in silence once again.

In the small hours of the next morning, before the sunlight started spreading across the sky and before anyone was awake, a lone First of his clan set out toward the Divine’s Conclave without a goodbye to anyone.


	2. The Wrath of Heaven

Everything was cold. Pinpricks stuck up and down the arm Rimmi had been laying on. Darkness surrounded him as he lay on the stone floor and he tried to sit up but found his hands locked inside some sort of metal contraption. It took some grunting and shuffling, but he managed to get up onto his feet, only to stumble into more metal bars with a  _ clang _ that reverberated around a larger room outside of where he was. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the few torches in the room and his stomach dropped at the realization that he was being held in a prison.

 

_ Ooohhhh no no no no no _ he muttered to himself before a door at the end of the dungeon opened up to four heavily armed soldiers rushing toward his cell. He was hoisted out and shoved to the floor on his knees again and instructed to wait for someone titled The Seeker, but just as the guards let go of his over coat a brilliant flash of green light sparked a horrible explosion in Rimmi’s hand. Pain seared up his arm, ripping and tearing up into his shoulder and he cried out in agony; the display caused the guards to draw their weapons with every intent of silencing the poor elf.

 

The light disappeared as quickly as it came and the pain subsided, leaving a dull aching in its wake and Rimmi held his hand up to inspect the thin ribbon of green struck across his palm. What the hell was happening? Panic began to take hold and he looked up to one of the guards, a grizzled older woman with terror written across her face and in the shaking hand in which her sword was extended toward his throat. He glanced around to the other three and all of them were trembling. They were afraid...of him? He opened his mouth to say... well he didn’t really know what, but was silenced before he could formulate his thought by the door swinging open again to two women, one in armor and the other in a hood.

 

The armored one began circling him like a bird of prey, “Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The conclave is destroyed,” she circled round to his front and halted with her arms crossed over her chest. “Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

 

_ Everyone is dead… “ _ What do you mean?”

 

She grabbed up his glowing hand and brought her face close to his, “Explain this,” she demanded harshly before tossing his hand aside again.

 

“I… can't.”

 

“What do you mean you  _ can't _ ?”

 

“It’s painful; I don't know what it is. Please-”

  
  


“You're lying!” she growled and grabbed him up by the front of his coat.

 

The one in the hood separated him from the other woman’s wrath, “We need him, Cassandra.”

 

“I don't understand…” he muttered again.

 

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?” the hood inquired. He vaguely recalled something chasing him and reaching out to someone but the rest was a blur. Cassandra dismissed the other, calling her Leliana, and undid the irons around his wrists, replacing them with rope to keep him bound. He put up no fight, either out of stupidity or self preservation he wasn't so sure, and followed her out through the Chantry he’d been in only days (was it days?) before as he made his way up to the Conclave.

 

The sun skewed his vision and he blinked away the spots under the shelter of his hand’s shadow as Cassandra explained the massive tear in the sky. Another flash of green and pain brought Rimmi to his knees again, another cry wrent from his lungs. Whatever he'd done was likely to be his last mistake. He felt like the mark was immolating him from the inside out; Creators, what was going on?

 

Cassandra explained that the mark was slowly killing him, somehow connected to the “Breach” she'd called it. Yup. Somehow his entire life was leading to this, a horrible death at the hands of magic he’d somehow unleashed upon the world. Oddly apropos. Cassandra knelt next to him to help him up, a softer expression of worry in her tone as she told him that he might be the key to closing the Breach. He shifted his auburn hair out of his eyes and gently accepted her helping him stand.

 

Her distrust was still prevalent and he scoffed, “You still think I did this? To myself?” He immediately regret the question when her harsh response bit back at him.

 

“No. Something went wrong. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way.”

 

“I...understand,” he agreed reluctantly, “I'll do whatever I can to help.”

 

Cassandra lead him past the sneers and dark glares from the people in the village and out the gate, where she cut his bindings and instructed him to follow. Another flare in the sky triggered in his hand as well and Cassandra had to pick him up off of the ground again. He wasn't a stranger to pain, as accident prone as he was, but this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. They pushed forward past panicked soldiers and wagons on fire until a flaming mass came down on the bridge they were crossing, dropping them onto the frozen river below.

 

Another flaming ball crashed to the ground, calling forth a shade from the embers. Cassandra drew her sword and shield and rushed it while calling for him to stay behind her. He was perfect content doing so until a black mass started bubbling up at his feet and another shade rose up and gurgled at sighting him. He called to Cassandra as he backed away but tripped over the rubble and landed flat on his ass. The shade advanced and clicked its claws together but Rimmi spotted a staff under the stone and clamored over to it, yanking it free just in time to engage the shade. He shoved it away and smacked at its head with the spiked top of the staff and, before thinking his actions through, called forth a fountain of flames that poured over the gruesome creature, melting it away into a greasy ash stain on the ice. Rimmi had never actually been in combat before and being able to use his spells for something other than lighting campfires was enthralling. He breathed heavily and watched as the liquid fire began melting a hole in the ice, having eaten away at the monster and in his alarm he’d almost slipped again. He recalled the flames into the nothing he’d pulled them from and blinked toward the warrior, watching her dispatch her own monster with a blade to what would be its face.

 

He checked around to ensure nothing else would sneak up on them and smiled in his disbelief, “It’s over. They're gone!” His excitement melted away with Cassandra’s deadly blade aimed at  _ his  _ face next.

 

“Drop your weapon,” she ordered in her brusque voice and he raised his hands in compliance and nodded. Silently he kept eye contact but lowered the staff to the ground but the Seeker scowled and faltered before sheathing her blade entirely. “Wait,” she surveyed their battleground, “You don't need a weapon but...it may be best that you hold onto it. I cannot protect you.”

 

Rimmi acquiesced and fastened his new staff to his back and silently hoped he’d be able to, maybe not prove his innocence, but be useful enough to keep around. This Seeker woman was a person behind her armor and he appreciated her seeing him as a person behind the mark on his hand and his pointed ears. He hadn't had any direct trouble with the shems on his way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes but always heard the whispers behind him about keeping their valuables close at hand. He’d wondered if it was all elves that they treated this way or just the Dalish. He sort of hoped it was only the latter.

 

The odd pair pressed onward and Rimmi did indeed prove useful, melting enemies and closing the rifts they came across. They met up with another elven apostate like himself and a wise cracking dwarf who unabashedly annoyed the Seeker with a charming smile on his face. The four came upon a rift at the gate of the forward camp and Rimmi reached a hand up to seal it and felt a release of pressure in his arm that soothed the aching causing by the expanding Breach. Maybe this thing wouldn't kill him as quickly as he thought. That was comforting in a weird way.

 

The party stumbled into an argument between Leliana and a shrewd man who grimaced up at Rimmi and ordered him clapped in irons again but Cassandra and Leliana leapt to his defense, arguing Chancellor Roderick down until all he could do was huff. Rimmi’s ears rang as he had a moment to take in the events of the morning. He didn't remember anything beyond a woman reaching out to him; but he didn't quite recall where he was at the time. A small nudge in his thigh brought him back to the present and all eyes were on him. He stuttered a request to repeat the question and Leliana repeated the options for getting them all to the temple.

 

“Mining tunnels or charging up the mountain…” Rimmi mulled over the paths before shooting a curious glance upward, “Why are you asking what I think?”

 

“You are the one we must keep safe. You have the mark,” Solas the apostate quipped and the other nodded in agreement.

 

“Alright...uh, mining tunnels it is, then. Open combat sounds risky and I am not really trained for direct confrontation.” He tried to sound confident in his explanation but knew somewhere inside there was an inexperienced child who would likely set friends and foes alike aflame. The non confrontational route would be the safest for the soldiers and themselves.

 

The ragtag group made it through the mountain path and rescued the missing scouts engaged in a battle for their lives with a rift. The things would just keep spewing demons out until it was closed, it seemed. The lieutenant they'd rescued thanked him profusely and escorted her wounded back through the tunnels. No one had ever thanked him before for saving their lives. The feeling of pride that grew in his heart and lightened his mood vanished when they rounded the last corner to the entrance of the temple.

 

Giant craggy spires of glowing rocks jutted out of the ground toward the sky and the snow had all melted away from the blast site. Rimmi’s stomach turned at the first body they came across, petrified in terror at being burned alive and kneeling as if begging for their torment to end. Somehow he’d held it together with Cassandra’s arm clasped over his shoulders, guiding him through the carnage. Varric commented on the red lyrium they'd come across and said not to touch it. The Dalish apostate wouldn't dream of it. Whatever was in this stone, it was wrong. The feeling it gave off was sickening and felt like it was reaching out and draining his own mana.

 

They came up to the rift attached to the Breach and Solas stated he’d need to open the rift and close it properly. The soldiers prepared for the inevitable hoard of demons opening the rift would bring and Rimmi nodded confirmation that everyone was as ready as they'd ever be. With the sound of glass shattering, the rift was torn open and a demon of pride clawed it’s way through. The small army fought the onslaught of shades and wisps and eventually wore down the pride demon for Leliana to strike it with a final arrow, sending the horror back to the fade. Rimmi reached up to close the rift but met with resistance greater than any he’d previously encountered with the rifts. He thought of his mother and his clan and the people he’d just met today, the lieutenant and Varric and Cassandra, all were grateful to him for fighting something he may have actually caused. If today was his last day as a living soul then he’d make sure it counted.

  
He threw all of his energy into the link between the mark and the rift and pushed back against the tear while sweat soaked his brow; he grabbed onto his arm and planted his feet and gave one final shove. A deafening cheer was the only confirmation he’d gotten that his job was done before a dull throbbing hit his knees and then his head and he was gone into the darkness once again.


	3. Herald of What Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, thank you so much for your patience with me. We're back with Rimmi and the gang and we're ready to take on the Breach!

Small sounds tugged at the edges of Rimmi's consciousness. Doors creaking, bottles rattling, voices, but all were lost before he could find them. He didn't mind, this dreamless nothing suited him. He couldn't disappoint anyone or break anything. This was quite lovely. But all good things must end, or so mamae would say.

A door’s hinges squeaking again tickled in his mind and a small shuffling close to him roused him from the nothing. A candle burned next to the outrageously comfortable bed he was lying in and he pressed his head down into the pillow, enjoying whatever luxury brought him here. Footsteps snapped his attention to the servant who’d dropped a box onto the floor at the sight of him. She fell to her knees and apologized for waking him but he gave a nervous laugh before he told her not to worry about it. She began speaking so fast that Rimmi only caught a bit of it between the fog in his head, but the breach had stopped growing and so had his mark. Apparently he’d been asleep for three days, and the villagers believed him a hero now.

“They're...pleased...with me?” Rimmi stammered in disbelief. That couldn't be right. He was still dreaming. The servant told him Cassandra would want to know he was awake and all but bolted out of the small shack. Lovely pelts hung on the walls and the furniture was rustic Ferelden through and through. _At least I'm not in a dungeon, though I probably will be when I actually wake up,_ he smirked to himself and stretched. Daylight shone through the windows and warmed him while he took time to relish how cozy he'd probably never be again. _Alright, wake up now,_ his thoughts sang to him.

Pinching didn't work, either. Alright, maybe this is some joke. Cassandra would explain that the Keeper sent him here as a huge joke and he'd be sent back to his clan for everyone to laugh at.

Rimmi shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was madness, he'd need to find Cassandra. She seemed like the only one who knew anything around here. Strapping on his borrowed armor, he noticed they'd left his staff standing next to his clothes. Ultimately, it was left in the shack. Appearing hostile wouldn't help much if he needed to plead for his life.

Ice gripped his stomach as his fingertips brushed the iron handle leading outside. Outside to what, though? To more cuffs around wrists and angry shoving and bereaved shouting at the loss of the chantry’s “most holy”? Maybe he should take his weapon, but the clan wouldn't welcome him back if he managed to fight his way to freedom. If his clan still lived? Maybe they'd heard what happened and fled, he could only hope for their safety. Maybe he could bargain and be made an example of and they'd leave Clan Lavellan alone. Right? Mercy was what Andraste preached?

What ifs pressed in on Rimmi, choking him. A shaky breath, then another, just keep breathing like Keeper Deshana taught him when this happened. _It’s best to go out and face it,_ she'd say. He squeezed his eyes closed and nodded to his thought and yanked on the handle, spilling the morning sun into the doorway.

Shemlen and elves and dwarves lined the pathway with armored guards creating a walkway through Haven. All of them...saluting him. “Excuse me, but-” he was cut off with a gesture toward the chantry and a “Lady Cassandra will speak with you”. He wrung his hands and made his way through the sea of people, some awestruck and some crying and more a cautious fear, and caught some of the murmurs of “Maker be with you” and “He's the one, yeah? An elf?” And another few offered him the blessings of a herald of their Lady Andraste. He climbed the stairs between two growling dogs carved out of trees and found more villagers and sisters alike kneeling as they saw him come through.

“Walk safely, Herald,” “He can close the rifts, the Herald,” “Blessed be, Herald” what was going on?! He found himself speed walking past the stares and only tripped twice before seeing the throng of chantry people in their silly uniforms and hats all blocking his way into the chantry. Maybe he could go back to the shack and Cassandra could come to him. That would work. He turned to retreat but the crowd closed in behind him, all staring at him. _Okay, okay,_ he turned back toward the chantry people, _You're fine. No one's attacking. Just keep walking_.

There was actually room for him to get through the chantry doors and he advanced into the Hall, hoping to see anyone familiar, but was met with emptiness. He heard yelling further into the building and wandered slowly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden shift of light. The yelling grew louder and he recognized Cassandra and the shrewd little man they'd met on the bridge that wanted him locked up. The Seeker was defending him!

He didn't want to disappoint her or seem timid to the horrible Chancellor Roderick. Cassandra believed he could help and he did, if she believed in him afterward, he wouldn't let her down. No one here knew about his past with his clan. Maybe he could make up for always being the one that ruined everything. For being the joke. Even his Vallaslin was a slight against him. “Ghilan’ain, mother of the halla, goddess of navigation so that he could find his way in life”. He’d spent hours alone in the river that night, crying and scrubbing at his face. It was humiliating.

With the argument raging behind the door, Rimmi put on his best brave face and yanked on that handle into the unknown.

And yanked again. And again. Was the door locked?

No. It creaked open in the opposite direction with a confused Templar face peeping out of the opening. It was a push, not pull. Rimmi sheepishly slipped through the doorway and met with barks for restraints from Roderick and the Seeker shutting him down. The two came nose to nose over the breach and the elf found his voice, trying to sound commanding.

“I did everything I could to close the breach. It almost killed me.”

“Yet here you are!” Roderick growled. Leliana stepped in from somewhere and implied that Roderick himself was more of a suspect than Rimmi at this point. The Chancellor stared in disbelief. “I am a suspect but _not_ the Herald?!”

More arguing. Was...was he the “herald”? What did that even mean? He'd been sent here in their darkest hour?

“You really think your Maker would send someone like me?”

“The Maker sends whoever he sees fit,” stated the Seeker with finality. She pulled a book off of a shelf and slammed it onto the table. “This is a writ from the Divine. Granting us the authority to act.” Apparently they were resurrecting the “Inquisition of old”. How ominous sounding. No help from their chantry, no leader, no feasible means of actually accomplishing saving the world. But also no proof that he'd caused this madness, so maybe it wasn't hopeless.

“I'm with you,” Rimmi sealed his fate with a handshake with the Seeker. A very firm handshake through gritted teeth that later bruised his poor hand.

He was the Herald of Andraste somehow. What an odd thing to wake to.


	4. Bears and Bad Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will pick up in the next chapter, I promise!

"'Go to the Conclave,' they said! 'Find a new path,' they said! All I'm finding are bears! And skulls on sticks! And  _all. these. damn. herbs!_ " Rimmi grit his teeth as he ground elf root into paste for the laceration on his leg. They'd been in the Hinterlands for weeks now. Solving star puzzles, rooting out the templars and mages, recruiting a horse master, closing rifts, recruiting a cult full of people worshiping the rifts, and  _OH THE DRAGON THEY STUMBLED ACROSS._ Rimmi'd had it up to here with this Creator or Maker or Rift forsaken place and his mark and everything else that lead to, quite literally, running into several bears that day. He spat curses at every living thing in the Hinterlands as he continued making the poultice to bandage up his leg by the fire while Cassandra had gone off to fish for dinner.

 

They'd set up camp in a ruin called "Calenhad's Foothold" as Solas, who'd retired for the evening, had previously expressed an interest in walking through the fade there. It was certainly an interesting study, one that Rimmi hoped to learn, and the stories of the memories he told were captivating. Varric stood guard since Rimmi couldn't stand at the moment; he'd insisted on limping through the campsite by the lake because he wanted to be tough in front of the people who believed him to be their savior of some kind. It cost him a lot of blood and ultimately the use of his leg for now. Cassandra had to pick him up and carry him to the Foothold, much to his chagrin. The Seeker already arranged mounts for them so they could get back to Haven without their dear Herald ripping his leg open any further.

 

The ride back was a lot shorter than the walk to, recruiting Dennet was the only thing Rimmi was grateful for while he whined and moaned over his leg. He'd also managed to break a staff while they were traipsing about. All in all it was a successful and stressful month and a half. Rimmi's leg had healed well on the ride up the mountain and he was ready to fall into his comfy bed and never wake up, but Cassandra insisted on debriefing first so, up toward the Chantry he went. And found a crowd of angry people. Just the thing Rimmi happened to not want to deal with at the moment.

 

Templars and mages were yelling at each other and looked like it was about to come to blows. Didn't he just deal with this nonsense? Anger propelled him forward but, just then, the chantry door swung open and the Inquisition's Commander stormed out. Rimmi stood on the fringes of the crowd and watched Cullen dismantle the argument in a few short sentences. He certainly knew how to get things done. Rimmi hadn't actually had a conversation with him yet. Not that he didn't want to, just...hadn't...yet. The crowd dispersed and Chancellor Roderick stood in the middle, still trying to discredit all of the work they'd done. They began arguing with one another and Rimmi stepped into the middle. The Commander looked as exhausted as Rimmi felt and he sympathized.

 

"Chancellor, you're the only one here insisting that the Inquisition and the Chantry can't work together?"

 

"Recognize our authority, you're flouting about with a title your don't deserve, you killed the Divine," why didn't they send Roderick away already? Cullen said that he was a good indication of what to expect in Val Royeaux...shit. The Herald completely forgot about that bit in the flurry of bear claws and wild eyed combatants.

 

"I hope I bring you good news," sighed Rimmi, dejectedly making his way into the huge building. The door clicked closed and he realized what he'd said. He hoped he brought good news for everyone, not just the Commander! It'd be nice to see Cullen not so worried and tired but, should he go specify? Should he bring back separate good news for Cullen? Why was he thinking of their Commander by his first name? That was the longest interaction they'd ever had! He must think Rimmi was weird, what news did he expect that would just be for him?

 

Rimmi leaned back into the door, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to clear his head. Cullen probably didn't even hear what he'd said. Nothing was wrong. It'd be brushed off as a weird Dalish thing. Right? Besides-

 

"Ah, Herald!" Lady Josephine called to him from down the hall. Rimmi shook his head and gave a weak smile in her direction.  _Idiot, she's too far, she can't see you,_ he scolded himself and moved toward her office. "I'd like to introduce you to Marquis DuRellion!"

 

The man next to her started throwing his attitude in Rimmi's direction, "The rightful owner of Haven!" He wore a silly mask to hide the top half of his face; he looked like little puppet dolls they made for the children in his clan. Josephine upended his argument by threatening a duel with Seeker Pentaghast after Rimmi stated the Inquisition was started by the Left and Right hands of the Most Holy he'd "lent" the lands to. A simple and subtle wit that ended a problem before it began...what an incredible skill.

 

They spoke for a bit and Josephine assured him that he didn't have to debrief; his correspondence with Leliana was quite enough and he should go rest and be off his leg. He took the advice and hardly made it back to his cabin before slipping into...fire.

 

It was everywhere. Devouring his mamae's aravel, the walls groaned and popped under the heat, ashes and acrid smoke choking him. He called out to her but no one was there. The flames licked across the floor, reaching out to him. something whispered into his ear,  _You destroy everything anyway, why should this be any different?_ He tried to scream but his throat was hoarse, he ran toward the door but tripped and landed on...stone? It was so cold while the inferno raged around him.  _You won't make a difference,_ came the whisper again. He tried to stand, to run, but his hands were bound again! He was in the cell below the chantry! Heat scorched his skin and burned away his breath, he was suffocating...

 

 _I'm so sorry for this,_ a different whisper this time. His cheek burned with a different kind of pain. His eyes opened again and the fire was gone, he was cold and wet. The elven servant he'd encountered when he woke after sealing the Breach stared, wide eyed, and squeaked at him waking up. She jumped off the bed and bowed to him, not daring to look up. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! You wouldn't wake up and I tried everything, I didn't know what else to do! I'm so sorry!"

 

Rimmi sat up and shivered. She'd slapped him! "No, it's fine, really...I...have nightmares. I'm sorry if I scared you..." he was honestly going to scare this poor girl to death. "What...um...is your name?"

 

She kept her eyes on the floor. "E- Elera."

 

"Okay, um, Elera. I appreciate you waking me. It was a  terrible dream, you've done me a huge favor. I appreciate you." He stood from his bed and ran a hand through his dark cherry hair, "Elera's a lovely name. I'm Rimmi. Lavellan."

 

"Oh I know you, ser. I should go, I've bathwater to fetch. I'm sorry," and Elera was gone again. At least nothing broke this time. Rimmi peeled off his drenched night shirt and changed into fresh clothes. He needed a walk. Maybe to get a blanket that wasn't so hot. It was mid day, he'd slept almost an entire day! He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and wandered around for a bit, head still in a daze.

 

Sounds of metal striking metal caught his attention and he drifted toward the makeshift training grounds that had been set up, with Commander Cullen at the center, instructing the soldiers on parrying. Rimmi's eyes lingered for too long on their sweating, shirtless, tall, take charge Commander...snow lilted gently all around them and sizzled into vapor when they hit Cullen's chest.

 

"Look, it's the Herald!" snapped him back from his daze and he panicked when people began to look his direction. He quickly spotted Cassandra terrorizing a training dummy and quickly made his way over to her, keeping the Commander firmly out of his line of sight.

 

He spoke with the Seeker about if he believed in their Maker or not but in truth, he didn't really know. He didn't really believe in the Creators...or maybe...he didn't believe they were all powerful? Gods didn't make mistakes according to the Andrastian Chantry but he was somehow here, whether the Maker or the Creators sent him. All of this was internalized as he left back toward his cabin to prepare for Orlais. He didn't like Chancellor Roderick and didn't much like the thought of a whole gang of him wanting Rimmi hanged for their Divine.


	5. A Magister, A Mage, An Altus, oh my!

"This is obviously a trap, Herald."

 

Rimmi read the note from the Magister's son for the hundredth time while they mulled around outside the Gull and Lantern. The clan Lavellan had lost some to slavers and speaking so confidently to the face of one of Rimmi's greatest fears was an accomplishment he never wanted to achieve again. Cassandra was harping about trap this or that and Varric was saying something about not letting the current population of Redcliff be sla-oh, sorry, "indentured servants". His patience and emotional stability teetered on a dangerous ledge already, then Cassandra rounded on Varric and accidentally hit Rimmi's arm in the process.

 

"That's enough! You're all insufferable! Shut UP." The Herald spun on his heel and stormed off into the city. Cassandra didn't even care about the mages here and Solas, stupid high and mighty asshole! Who do they they they are?! Plus the Templars punched that woman in Val Royeaux? Rimmi certainly didn't want to be punched by anyone, let alone a terrifying person with metal armor on their fist and an ability to render him completely helpless. What insanity, Cassandra couldn't possibly believe that he'd run off to the Templars for help.

 

No. They'd get help from mages, who have used magic and could control it, and help the mages in return. Maybe then the fear of magic would die down a bit. Rimmi was so lost in his thoughts while walking that he'd ended up near the windmill near the front gates. He unclenched his fist and read the note from the magister's son. "Come to the Chantry. You are in danger." He was in danger with or with out Tevinter to scuffle with. He grit his teeth and tore the paper to shreds, throwing the bits on the ground and stomping them into the dust. Tears burned in his eyes and dropped into the dirt. He'd never been trusted with a bread knife before the conclave and now he was responsible for the entire world! Everything was always so complicated! Why was everything such a damn headache? Why did he keep asking questions that he'd never have answers for?!

 

After his stomping fit, Rimmi swiped at the tears angrily and wiped his nose on his sleeve. His eyes lingered on the gate into town...the others hadn't followed him. He could just leave. Curse this mark and the whole world. He was positive he didn't volunteer for this, though he couldn't remember how it happened. He wouldn't have. Clan Lavellan always whispered about his 'feeble mind' behind his back. He couldn't control his magic or even his own feet most of the time. He was an absolute mess.

 

But the lieutenant he'd saved before he'd closed the rift came by to see him every day he was at Haven...and they'd spent an entire month fighting through the undead and demons and a crazy mage to find the group in the Fallow Mire. They all had their families visit Haven after they'd returned safely. One of them had a little daughter named after the Hero of Ferelden and she'd been insistent on braiding Rimmi's hair. She'd hugged him when she and her mother were leaving back to Denerim and thanked him for bringing her dad back. He had the flower she'd left in his hair pressed into a book in his pocket. The Herald sighed and sat in the husk of the windmill and pulled out his little pocket book and smiled at the little bud of embrium. He really was a mess, and a selfish one to boot. The sun dipped lower toward the surface of Lake Calenhad and lit up the entire town in glorious shades of orange and pink and yellow. Rimmi frowned back at his pocket book and closed it carefully before returning it to his satchel. Trap or no, he alone had to deal with this mess for the people of Redcliff and he would have to meet with what or whoever was in that Chantry. But he wouldn't be alone; Cassandra, Solas, and Varric would be there with him, to help him through it. He believed them to be friends, the first ones he'd had since before his magic manifested. He should probably apologize before asking them to follow him into the unknown though...

 

At the door of the Chantry, Rimmi paused with his hand on the handle before entering. A horribly uneasy feeling clawed at his stomach, but Cassandra put her hand on his shoulder and smiled and it was the reassurance he needed to push his way in. Into a giant rift. And the most gorgeous human ever to be drenched in greasy demonic soot.

 

"Oh good, you're here. Now help me close this, would you?" They were all too happy to oblige and made short work of closing the weird, time warping rift. The dashing mage studied Rimmi as he closed the rift, "Fascinating! How does that work, exactly?" Rimmi gave a small shrug and the mage laughed. "You don't even know, do you! You just wiggle your fingers and *boom*. Rift closed!"

 

Rimmi blinked and stammered out a nervous, "Who are you?"

 

Dorian Pavus used a lot of words to say that he was formerly Alexius' apprentice. Cassandra kept her weapon drawn and muttered a warning about "another Tevinter". Dorian began explaining how Fiona seemed to not remember her coming to them in Val Royeaux and how the allegiance of the mages was grabbed away from the Inquisition by Alexius. Time distorting magic... this was much, much worse than they thought. Dorian had helped create this magic somehow. Along with slavers, Tevinter was far too cocky with shit that just shouldn't be messed with. Out of the frying pan, right? Felix came in behind them and apologized for being late. Then he launched into a horrifying tale of  _another_ cult obsessed with the dear Herald and ripping holes in time to get to Rimmi.

 

"All this for me? And here I didn't get Alexius anything!" Rimmi smiled as Varric and Dorian snickered at his quip. Dorian offered his assistance in getting Alexius out of Ferelden and Felix left on a grim note. The group needed a drink. Cassandra suggested heading back to Haven for now; the mages were no help for the moment and the Commander and Spymaster needed to know about this mess immediately so they could point Rimmi's magic hand in the right direction. Solas started voicing his concern about time warping when Cassandra started in about going to the Templars again but Rimmi was lost. Dorian smiled at his stupid joke. A smile that was...intoxicating. He had a sense of humor in the midst of this madness and that gave Rimmi...was it hope? It seemed like hope. It also seemed like a nervous need to know everything about this man.

 

An invitation awaited the Herald upon his return to Haven to meet with "the esteemed Alexius Geheron, Magister of the Tevinter Imperium'. Goodness but they loved their titles. What would he be introduced as? The Herald of Andraste? Was he Rimmi, the Herald? Or was he just "oh that knife-ear" like he was in Val Royeaux? Somehow, just being "the Herald" hurt the most. Just a nameless asshole with a glowing hand, putting out fires. Or worse, Rimmi, the asshole first who starts all the fires and is entirely useless to the clan. THAT hurt the most.

 

But he wasn't nameless when he rode up to the stables to quarter his hart, or when he walked by the practicing troops who took a break to come greet him, or when he walked through the archway into Haven and was greeted by the people that once feared him. Even Elera, the servant, paused in whatever she was running off to do to come and say hello. He'd made it a point to get to know everyone. At first out of self preservation, but then these people began to be his friends. They were people he looked forward to sitting in the tavern with at the end of the day. Rimmi finished asking Elera how she was (busy), and was ushered into the war room by Cassandra and Leliana.

 

More arguing, but this time a good point was brought up. They didn't have the man power to take the castle. From Cullen's description, the fortress was completely invincible. At the same time, Tevinter gathering an army of mages in Ferelden was something that needed to be dealt with immediately. Rimmi couldn't take much more of this. They'd left it up to him to decide and he chose to go to the mages.

 

"He asked for the Herald  _by name._ It's an obvious trap!" voiced Josephine.

 

"That's so kind of him! What does Alexius say about me?" Rimmi shouted over the squabbling.

 

The room grew silent until Leliana offered, "He's so complimentary that we are certain he's trying to kill you."

 

Josephine rolled her eyes and they were all back at it again. Cullen stopped it shortly with his opinion that the magister had outplayed them in a horrible game of cat and mouse. Rimmi wasn't a tactician and knew nothing of taking a fortress. But this wasn't hopeless. Maybe Dorian knew a way inside? He'd been there to stop Alexius, right? "We can't just give up. There's got to be a solution..." He was about to offer to contact Dorian but Cassandra cut him off and repeated exactly what he'd just said. Maybe with more conviction. Maybe that made it different. It was Rimmi's turn to roll his eyes.

 

Leliana stared hard at the table. "There is another way inside. An escape route for the family. I can get agents into the castle, but we can't squeeze troops through."

 

"They'd be noticed and killed, " Cullen dismissed.

 

"You're right, we'd need a distraction. Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?" All eyes turned to Rimmi but behind the Herald, the door burst open and in strode none other than Dorian offering his aid.

 

"Great timing!" Rimmi exclaimed a little too excitedly. No one else seemed to notice. It was settled, then. The agents, lead by Dorian, would leave in an hour and Rimmi and his envoy at dawn.


	6. In Hushed Whispers and Tortured Screams

They'd decided that being as direct as possible was the way to go; draw out Alexius before he had a chance to figure out what was going on. Cassandra huffed at having been labelled "attache" but Rimmi couldn't think of anything else off the top of his head and it was a fun word to say. So Alexius tried to open up a farce of a negotiation and Rimmi shut it down immediately.

 

"Why don't you tell me about this "Venatori" I'm hearing so much about?" While it worked for the plan in creating this distraction, Alexius' words twisted an unexpected knife.

 

"You are nothing but a mistake," he glared coldly. At first it was pain, but it flared into anger in a flash. Rimmi lashed out and he heard Dorian shouting, and then...nothing. Again. This was the worst habit he'd picked up as of late.

 

But he wasn't asleep; a dark vision flashed before him and suddenly he splashed onto a flooded stone floor. He lost his balance at the sudden impact and landed on his shoulder in water that was inches high. Another splash behind him brought him to his feet again and Dorian was right behind him, waving his arms in little circles to steady himself. He gushed about how they must not be  _where_ but  _when_ and Rimmi did not share his enthusiasm. But, never a better time to get to know someone than through crisis...actually that sounded like a terrible way to get to know someone.

 

Dorian joked about the decor being somehow worse than the traditional Ferelden dog statues but Rimmi was lost in the red lyrium jutting out of the ceilings and walls. Everything about it made him nauseous. They walked up a flight of stairs and found Lysas in a cell. He'd been an angry mage, afraid of the Inquisition and what it stood for. Afraid they'd haul him back to the Circles...he was out of his mind now, wouldn't respond to anything Rimmi did or said. Sweat itched through the Herald's gloves and down his spine as the elf's rhythmic chanting about sins and madness pounded in his ears.  _Andraste guide me, guide me, guide me_ spiraled round through Rimmi's heart and lungs and caught his breath in a vice grip. Red spots danced in his vision and he swayed...

 

Dorian caught him before he fell and dragged him away from the elf in the cell. Finger snapped in front of his face and Rimmi shook his head clear of the dancing spots. He was seated on a grimy bench covered in...oh it was so much better to not think about it. A few more snaps and a chipper "Ah, there we are!" before the Herald shoved the handsome mage out of the way and heaved up a breakfast he'd eaten what seemed like centuries ago. On his hands and knees, he balled his fists and gasped for air. The mark shimmered through the darkest cloth Rimmi could procure.

 

"I was a mistake," he repeated Alexius' words.

 

Dorian knelt beside him, "Hey, no. You most certainly are not. Look at me." Rimmi knelt, glaring at his open palm through his glove. "Look, here. No one is a mistake."

 

"Why am I like this...?" Rimmi's voice faltered. If not a mistake, then he was a failure. This was some future that he didn't prevent. His 'Andrastian blessing' couldn't help this.

 

"Look at me," Dorian pulled Rimmi's eyes up to his own, "I asked myself this same question every single day of my life for so long. And I never found an answer. You'll be happiest if you just are. Okay?" Dorian forrowed his brows in pain and conviction. Rimmi nodded weakly. All he had to do was wiggle his fingers at the 'Elder One"  and he could go back to his clan and Mamae and Keeper Deshana and just mix poultices all day. He wouldn't even have to use his magic He'd live quietly and happily and never have to even think about the wretched Herald of Andraste again. They stood and somehow Rimmi didn't vomit when they found a lyrium addled Cassandra and Sera cowering away from what she thought were undead. He even managed to keep it together when they came across Grand Enchanter Fiona, whose skin was drawn tight on her remaining bones. The lyrium infection ate away the lower half of her body, harvesting away her life force to flourish. They dispatched a small group of guards and wound their way through what used to be a barracks for them. A single skeleton sat at the table with cards strewn about on the floor, alongside the knife that had killed the poor sucker. The protective daze his brain defaulted into created a singular focus on whatever Dorian's fix for this future was. Getting the amulet back or something. Sera hadn't forgotten how to pick locks and snubbed "fancy chit" pauldrons inside a chest and Cassandra laughed, a horrible, warbled sound like rocks grating against metal. None of it really registered in Rimmi's ears. Dorian found a door with a staircase leading up and lead the way into even more terrors.

 

A loyal Andrastian to the very end held her promise as Rimmi kicked the door in with the intent of saving her. But they were too late. Rimmi rushed ahead pulled the dying woman into his lap and tried a barrier, a life ward, anything. But he was never good at healing magic. He could set the entire world on fire but he didn't want to watch it burn. The sounds of the rest of the party battling the Tevinter mages almost drowned out the woman's last gasping breaths. _"It's...the Herald..."_ she wheezed,  _"Andraste...is...with us..."_ The Herald closed her eyes hugged her lifeless body. Cassandra gently guided him to his feet and they pressed on.

 

They reached Leliana, her dead eyes locking with Rimmi's as he worked on the manacles holding her wrists. Her eyes horrified the Herald, they were clouded but sharp with a thousands ages of fury in them. Scars pocked one cheek; they looks like armored fists. If there was ever an insubordinate person being tortured it was this most incredible of women. He would have been among the first to die in this world. He could hardly control his magic, even with training with Cassandra. His clan didn't even care that he'd been a "prisoner", the oddly forced diplomatic letter Josephine had received  was likely at the behest of Ferona. And here Leliana stood, absolutely disgusted by his presence.

 

He managed to stammer out, "You're safe now..." before she cut him off. She pushed him aside to get to a chest with weapons inside at the far end of the room while Dorian questioned her in disbelief. She didn't care how they got there or where they came from and he couldn't blame her. It was then that Rimmi noticed another of Andraste's faithful slumped over in the corner.

 

While Dorian gave an unwanted explanation, Rimmi tuned it all out, walking toward the woman. His gut tied in knots over and over again. His hands were cold. Blood pounded in his ears and roiled in his veins and drenched those silly robes the Chantry wore. She was dead, she'd been killed maybe hours ago. A shaking hand reached out to lift Mother Giselle's twisted face, contorted in horror and pain in her final moments. A burn from an iron marred on eye, making her almost unrecognizable. They couldn't break Leliana so they tortured others to make her talk?

 

Rimmi's grip kept tightening, he'd lost control of his motor senses. The body was already in a rigor mortise stage, and when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, he jerked upwards, snapping Mother Giselle's jaw.

 

Along with his mind. Every failure, every mistake, every harsh word thundered in his ears, slashing and cutting away at the thin veil of hope for anything he'd hung.

 

This wasn't possible.

 

None of this could be happening.

 

He slapped away Dorian's hand and knocked into the table with stained and rusted knives and saws and fuck knows what other horrific things. A freshly wet knife clattered to the floor after leaving a smear of red across his pant leg. Cassandra's lyrium addled lifeless eyes bore into him and the room shifted and quaked under his feet.  _no. no no no no no._

 

_None of this is real. None of this is real. None of this is real._

 

A firm hand yanked him to his feet and slammed his back into the wall. Leliana Pinned him by his throat and snarled, "This is all pretend to you? Some future you  _hope_ doesn't happen?" She shoved him away with an embittered grunt, "I suffered. The whole world suffered. This. Is. Real." She turned away and kicked the table over, sending the rest of the tools skittering across the stone. Dorian leaned in and helped Rimmi up.

 

"We can stop this." He was so matter of fact and defiant in the face of Leliana's anger. She took a moment to breathe and nodded. Dorian gently squeezed Rimmi's arm. "Let's go and fix this, yes?" The Herald gave a weak nod in answer.

 

He watched as Cassandra and Sera threw themselves out the doors at an army of horrific demons. He watched their lifeless bodies get tossed back at him like rag dolls. And then he watch Leliana get overrun.

 

Rimmi saw Cassandra and Sera right where he'd left them, in the hall they'd been tossed into moments before. Leliana came in with her agents and took Alexius into custody. They'd stopped him.

 

But Rimmi was broken inside.


	7. Peanut Butter Balls

Cullen and Josephine were shouting when the Herald came into the war room. He could hear them in the great hall. It was always something with these people. They needed someone to close rifts, he closed rifts. They needed someone to yell at the Chantry in Val Royeaux, he yelled at the Chantry. They needed power to close the breach, he got them power to close the fucking breach. And they were still yelling! "Oh, abominations! Oh, alliance this or that! Oh, Rimmi, how could you turn the mages loose!" Oh wait, Cullen was yelling at him now.

 

"How can you, Mister Perfect, be such an ass? They're  _people! We are people_ , Cullen! If you want to piss and moan about it, take it somewhere else!" Rimmi exploded at him. He'd been drinking since...for...what day was it again? They'd ridden ahead of the group of mages and Cassandra hadn't spoken one word to him the entire trip. Dorian and Sera joked like children the entire way and Rimmi didn't sleep or eat for days. He'd tried, but food came right back up at the thought of Leliana being disemboweled, as Rimmi couldn't tear his eyes away while Dorian shoved him through the portal...and then Alexius and Leliana were right in front of him. Both completely unharmed by and unaware of their alternate fates.

 

Back to his present time, he gave Cullen pause with his outburst. He was hung over and starved and Elara had to practically drag him out of his cabin and literally dragged him out of his bed. She was awfully strong for having such tiny arms. Cullen reached for any response but was left with tossing his anger at Cassandra. "You were there, Seeker! Why didn't you stop this?!"

 

Cassandra gave a carefully worded explanation of her approval of the outcome, Dorian came in with a witty quip, everyone solemnly agreed that closing the breach was all that mattered. Now Leliana was arguing with Cullen about legitimate versus smuggled lyrium. Nothing was ever easy, honestly. Then the sensitive "Empress Celene being assassinated" topic, and now Cullen was extending the olive branch to him.

 

Rimmi rolled his eyes as he mocked Cullen's "Join us; none of this would be possible without your mark," back in his head in a stupid voice. He declined with a less than polite "I'm going back for a nap," and their party drifted apart to attend to their nonsense. Rimmi ground the heel of his palms into his eyes and growled to himself. What a headache. None of this would matter if they couldn't close the breach, or save the Empress, or figure out who this Elder One was and why he wanted to destroy the entire world outside of being a frightening megalomaniac. The Herald turned to sulk back in his cabin and then remembered that Elara refused to bring him any more wine. Rude.

 

A hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back around , causing a painful twinge to travel straight through the back of his skull and down his neck. Maybe he needed some water instead. He opened his mouth to yell at Mister Grabby Mitts and opened his eyes to Dorian's concerned ones under perfectly shaped eyebrows. Dorian stared hard at him for a moment before stating flatly, "You're coming with me. We need to have a chat." He released Rimmi's arm and pushed him out the door of the Chantry, past suspicious villagers (he was a mage, and a  _Tevinter_ mage!) and all the way down to the frozen lake. Rimmi protested at first, but the altus was also suspiciously strong, he and Elara must be plotting together. Or at least working out, shit. Wait, shit. He tripped over a snow bank and skidded to a halt a couple of feet out onto the ice. Pain seared behind his eyes and flamed through the back of his skull. The ice was cool on his hurting cheek, though, and he stayed face down, eyes closed, the faint sounds of the village of Haven blurring together into clinks and chatter a million miles away. Maybe the lake would unfreeze and swallow him up. The water would just crush the fever in him and he'd drift off into the void. Away from rifts, away from demons, away from Templars... away from Dorian...

 

Oh. Dorian. Sunlight burned into Rimmi's sensitive eyes when they opened, making out fuzzy shapes of shoes. The altus sat and procured a small bag full of brown ball looking things. Seconds later, one of these was being thrust toward Rimmi's mouth.

 

"Open." Rimmi shook his head and tried to scoot his head back. It smelled like...peanuts maybe? But sweeter. "I wasn't asking you, dear Herald. Take. A. Bite."

 

Groaning into a sitting position, he reluctantly took the ball from Dorian and nibbled at it. It was sweet, peanuts and oats of some kind? They made oatmeal in his clan for breakfast, some times. It was interesting. Rimmi popped the entire thing into his mouth and, forgetting his manners in the sweet sensation, asked, "What are these?" through muffled chews.

 

A smile twitched under that ridiculously perfect mustache, "Things that will help with your hang over. You look horrific, like a skeleton wandering around the town. You've been scaring the children." Rimmi shrugged and continued stuffing these miracle cures for alcohol poisoning into his mouth. "Now look, about what happened in that alternate future. I want to apologize for what happened. I didn't expect him to throw us every which way into the future. But I need you to understand that it IS preventable."

 

Dorian took one of the peanut butter balls out of the bag and bit into it. Rimmi popped the last one into his mouth and watched in horror as Dorian raised his to his lips again. A cocked eyebrow and a smirk told Rimmi that his begging had worked and he chewed the last bite thoughtfully after Dorian handed it over. "I understand that it's preventable," he labored over the thick layer of oatmeal and sugar, "I just don't think I'm the savior every one is looking for. Like you said, I just wiggle my fingers and *poof* the rifts are closed. I just stumbled out of the fade and *poof* I'm a herald of a goddess I don't understand. I set a caravan on fire again and *poof* I'm unable to be with my family because I'll set all of them on fire too." His shoulders sulked as he frowned down at the ice. His butt was cold and numb, but it wasn't really a bother. The weight of all of Thedas was resting in his glowing hand and he'd just trip and drop it, like everything else.

 

Dorian pulled Rimmi's hand into his own, "So we take it one step at a time, right? We'll have this world ship shape in no time. I don't really have anything profound to say to make it better immediately, but know that I'm here, should you need to talk. Or should you need better wine selections because I saw what the maid was bringing into your cabin. Truly an insult." He wrinkled his nose in disgust and they both laughed it off. They fell into an easy discussion about the Tevinter Imperium and the hierarchy of mage rule. Blood magic and slavery were tender subjects and neither wanted to dwell on them at the moment. Rimmi asked innocently about Dorian as a person and got a flippant "I'm well dressed and perfect, that's obvious to anyone" answer.

 

"Oh I'm well aware of your finer qualities, believe me," Rimmi purred. Who was this smooth person inside of him, where had this sudden coquettish demeanor come from? He'd usually be spewing random information about herbal remedies by now.

 

"Ah, I knew it as soon as I saw you. I thought 'Now there's a man who knows quality when he sees it.'" Their eyes locked, the altus still holding his hand, and shared an electric second of... something. Dorian broke it first with a nose twitch and a few moments of stammering out, "Now ah...what's. What were we talking about? Ah yes, me." He dodged questions about a family feud and they fell into an uneasy silence.

 

Ever the awkward one, another thought popped into Rimmi's head. "Have you...gone to see Alexius yet?"

 

Dorian's lips puckered, "No. I saw him before they locked him up. He looked...broken. He's not the man I remember, nor the one I want to."

 

Rimmi nodded and they sat in silence for a time, each lost in their heads. Pinpricks began eating at Rimmi's toes and they helped each other up and slipped over the lake back onto the snow, then shook hands and wandered off, Rimmi in search of his bed and Dorian in search of a LOT of wine.

 

On his way toward the gate, Rimmi saw a mage angrily making demands of Cassandra and she was at her wit's end.

 

She furrowed her brows and growled, "DEAL. WITH. IT." The mage, knowing he wasn't going to get what he wanted from the Seeker, huffed and stormed off.

 

 "Are you alright, Cassandra?" he inquired, already seeing the answer in the way she rubbed her temples.

 

"It never ends, evidently," was her flat response. She sighed, "They are our allies. They need to start leaning what that means. I'm certainly not the one to yell at for their nonsense! You forged this alliance, they should be yelling at you!"

 

The thought of a rabble of angry people yelling at him sent a chill down his spine. Alliance or no, everyone was equal in Haven and no one was going to be treated with special preference. That's what he wanted, anyway. Whispers about the "rabid Dalish elf with the glowing hand" still found his ears when they thought he couldn't hear them.

 

"I just tried to do what was right," he muttered. He thought of Cassandra as his first friend since...it didn't matter. Tarasylah was gone anyway. Maybe Rimmi didn't deserve friends. The Seeker was already under pressure from the Chantry and now had to contend with not knowing what was happening to her fellow seekers because he might have made the wrong choice. Why were they letting him make these choices, anyway? The smart and Andraste approved thing to do would have been to keep him as a prisoner. He probably did tear a hole in the sky. His nightmares of red eyes looming over him had something to do with that day, he just couldn't find the answers in his head.

 

Cassandra's reply was quite unexpected, though. "I sound like I'm blaming you, don't I?" she pursed her lips, "No... I approve. You made a decision that had to be made. I wish I could say this was my doing, to be honest."

 

"We wouldn't be here at all, if you hadn't stood up against the Chantry. You're discounting your role in this," Rimmi tried to sound assuring but the doubt in himself permeated through.

 

Cassandra shook her head, "Let's close the Breach. Then we can say how successful I was. You look like you need to sleep, though. I will try to keep a mob from forming outside of your door." She smiled and winked at the last sentence and Rimmi smiled meekly back. Something came over him in that moment and he threw his arms around her, wrapping her in a hug that he'd desperately needed. It took her several seconds to realize what was happening and she laughed, an actual laugh, and hugged him back. This moment was perfect. Tomorrow they would close the breach, they would find the Elder One, and they would kick his sorry ass. But right now, everything was right in Rimmi's world.

 

He said good bye and headed back toward his cabin. He desperately needed the sleep because they were going to close the breach and then head out to the Storm Coast, a band of mercenaries offered their help with the fight. Cullen sure could use the help with experienced fighters. This was all in the hopes that the Breach wouldn't actually kill him because that was still a very real possibility. One that Solas reminded him of gravely when they'd returned from Redcliffe. Maybe before the Breach Dorian would want to share some wine...liquid courage couldn't hurt, right?

 

 


	8. Update:

Friends,

This won't be a chapter, just a small update. I'm so sorry this hasn't been regular and I'm sorry some of the chapters seem rushed and choppy. This past year has been slew of nonsense and it seems to keep going.

That being said, I can't promise updates regularly like I wanted, but I am working on the next chapter and I will finish this. It's not great so far and I get that, but thanks for sticking with me. The kudos emails brighten my days <3

 

I'm going to post the next chapter soon and then I'm going to go back and start editing the first few chapters I've posted to clean up grammar errors and choppy segues.

Thank you so much!  
-E.E.


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